


At least try to convince me

by Bad_boy_supreme_on_fire



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Smut, at least it's kinda smut, i hope it's not too bad omg, minewt, minho is also really sweet tho, minho is horny, newt enjoys playing hard to get, they're both sarcastic shanks, think this is the most explicit i've ever written tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5285324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bad_boy_supreme_on_fire/pseuds/Bad_boy_supreme_on_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Besides, you should consider tryin’ to make me actually want to sleep with ya. It’s not gonn help if the only reasons are your horniness and the lack o’ girls in this place”.<br/>“I said you were cute, though”, Minho pointed out.<br/>“Yeah, well, now ya got one. Also:” he added. “Seduce me”. Newt shrugged and smiled. “Any charming attention from ya is gonn’ work in your favour, yanno”.<br/>Minho nodded slowly, trying to save this information somewhere in his brain. “Right”.<br/>Newt smirked and leaned forward, putting his hands on Minho’s thighs to support his weight. His grin didn’t falter when he was only inches from Minho’s face.<br/>“And then we’ll have to see what bloody happens”.</p><p>So basically: Minho is horny and asks newt if he fancies a fuck, Newt likes playing hard-to-get and is a teasing bastard, Minho has to try and properly seduce him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> the thing is that usually i can't actually write multiple chapter stories very well, but this is way too long to be a one shot, but there probably aren't gonna be hella many chapters, just so y'all know.  
> there isn't smut until the latest chapters though  
> please let me know what you think so far down in the comments!<3

“Hello? Earth to Minho!”

Minho’s eyes snapped open and he lifted his head from his palm where it had been resting. He looked at Newt who was obviously trying to get his attention. _Well shuck_ , Minho thought. That was some daydream to have when he was sitting outside in the Glade and there were people around. He crossed his legs as casually as he could to hide the fact that his runner-undies were getting slightly uncomfortable, and tried not to think about what he’d just been imagining about the soft curves of a pretty girl, and her smooth skin, and her long legs, and…

Newt cocked an eyebrow at him. “What were ya daydreaming ‘bout, shank?”, he asked, a smile poorly hidden in his voice.

 _Steaming hot sex_ , Minho thought.

“Nothing”, he said. “Just thinking about how nice it would be to throw Gally off a cliff, that’s all”. That could have been true, except that he wouldn’t have been nearly as horny as he was right now.

“Right”, Newt chuckled, and Minho couldn’t tell if it was a ‘ _right, I can believe_ _that’_ or a ‘ _yeah right, you lying shuckface’._ “Just had to make sure ya were alive in there, ‘s all. I gotta go clean off the tools”. He nodded to the Gardens behind him. “See ya”.

“See ya, shank”, Minho replied, and watched Newt as he walked away. Or, more specifically, watched his backside. It was only when his mind drifted and he felt himself starting to get hard again that he tore his gaze away and cursed.

Okay, he was really horny.

God, he wished he had a girlfriend right now. He also wished that said non-existing girlfriend was here with him, and that she’d be up for some sneaking into the deadheads together and fool around. He could just go and jack off like usual, but having company would always be preferable.

Minho sighed in frustration.

What about one of the guys, though? He’d actually given it a thought before, only he hadn’t been this serious about it, but he’d figured doing it with a guy could have been just as nice as with any girl. His thoughts immediately drifted to Newt.

Newt was nice. Aside from being Minho’s best friend, he was actually kind of good-looking. He was strong and lean, tall, had long and slender fingers, pretty hair and eyes and lips, a nice ass… Minho had seen him naked before, back when Newt was a runner and they all showered at the same time, and he had to admit that even his dick was nice.

Minho found himself wondering whether Newt would want to fuck if he suggested it. It couldn’t hurt to ask him, right? When he thought about it, he didn’t get the impression his friend would be absolutely appalled by the idea, and Minho most certainly wasn’t.

He’d just go ask him right away.

 

* * *

 

 

“Yo, shank!” Minho called when he approached Newt, who was just closing the door to the garden shed. Newt turned around and offered him a smile.

“’Sup, Min?”

Minho, with a grin on his face, slung an arm casually around his shoulder and began walking them in no particular direction.

“A question,” he said. “You wanna fuck?” There was a moment when Newt looked completely horror-struck before his expression morphed into a mix of that and confusion.

“ _Excuse me_?”

“Fuck”, Minho repeated, in case Newt didn’t hear him the first time. “Or, _have sex_ , if you’re so posh about it”.

“Er… _why_?” It didn’t seem like he was very used to people asking him out of the blue if he fancied a fuck. Okay, maybe Minho should have solved the problem differently than just ask straight forward, but now he’d done it, so he might as well finish it through.

“Well, the thing is that there obviously aren’t any girls around,” Minho gestured around the glade with the hand that wasn’t slung around his friend’s shoulder. “And I’m really horny and you’re cute, so… what do you say?”

It took a second, but then Newt cracked a smile and laughed. He grabbed the hand slung across his shoulder and peeled it off, almost gently pushing it back to Minho, and stood facing him.

“First of all,” he said. “No”.

Minho’s grin faded to a pout.

“Second,” Newt continued. “That is probably the worst way ya could possibly ask someone – especially someone you haven’t done anything sexual with before – to have sex with ya”. The shank was smiling as if Minho amused him.

“ _’There aren’t any girls around, can I fuck you?_ ’ At least _try_ to convince me, slinthead”.

“What, is that a no, then?” Minho asked, disappointed.

Newt just patted his shoulder. “You gotta work on that proposal o’ yours or go ask another shank”. Then he turned to leave.

“Aw, Newt, c’mon!”

Newt didn’t even turn around, just waved, but Minho had the feeling he was still wearing that amused little smirk of his. Minho groaned in frustration. Fine. He’d just go jack off by himself.


	2. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've basically finished this fic on my computer already so there probably won't be long between updates, but I'm too lazy to publish it all at once lol

For some stupid reason, Minho was still thinking about Newt when he went to sleep that night. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would actually be like to have sex with him (which was shucking stupid, he wasn’t horny anymore. Or, at least not until he started thinking about it). That was why it wasn’t really a surprise when Newt appeared in his dream.

 

Minho was standing in the Deadheads, far away from the sound of the other Gladers preparing themselves to go to sleep. He was studying a branch full of deep red flowers in the middle of all the green leaves when he heard someone appear behind him. He knew it was Newt before he turned around.

The boy stood close, and he was smiling at him. He brought his hand up to caress Minho cheek, but his fingers didn’t stop when he reached his chin, only continued further down his body while Newt spoke.

“Changed my mind ‘bout that suggestion o’ yours”, he purred, and his hand came to a stop on Minho’s crotch. Minho felt a smirk form on his own face.

“Is that so?”

Newt’s smile never faltered, and he nodded, his hand moving and putting delightful pressure on the growing bulge in Minho’s pants.

The dream was fleeting, like all dreams, and before he knew it, he had Newt naked up against the wall of the Maze, holding his thighs, kissing his neck, thrusting inside him. Newt’s long fingers were curled in his hair, and the boy was making all the dirty noises; whimpering, moaning, begging, cursing and saying Minho’s name like it was all he knew and all he ever wanted.

 

Minho woke to the beeping of his wristwatch and a painful throbbing between his legs.

“Ah, shuck”, he groaned, and wriggled out of his sleeping bag to head for the showers and take care of the problem before anyone else woke up. He was always the first one up, just because one of the few things he could enjoy about this prison he was trapped in was the quiet hour when the sky started lighting up just the slightest. Everything was silent before the other Gladers started waking up and before the walls of the Maze opened to invite him in and swallow him whole, trying to keep him from ever coming back out.

He shook the thought from his head and stepped into the shower.

 

* * *

 

 

Minho would never have allowed himself to get distracted by his own thoughts while running the Maze. He didn’t this time either, because he was a shucking _professional_ , or at least he acted like one.

After dinner, though, he went looking for Newt and found him sitting under a tree at the south end of the Glade, carving a wooden stick with his knife. Minho jogged over and sat down next to him on the soft grass.

“Hey, Newt”, he greeted his friend, who replied with a ‘hey’ and one of his usual little smiles.

“Watcha doing?”

“The handle o’ that bloody shovel broke again”. Newt nodded towards the two broken pieces of the wooden handle lying at his feet that used to belong to a shovel. “So I’m makin’ a new one”, he explained while putting down his knife to see if the stick he’d been working on fit where it was supposed to connect to the metal of the garden tool. It didn’t.

“Who was it this time?” Minho asked in amusement, well aware of the frequency that handle had broken over the past year, probably due to someone’s frustration. Or maybe the soil was just really hard to dig in.

“Zart”, Newt answered, and then he snorted. “The bloody shank hauled it straight at the wall”. Minho couldn’t help but laugh when he pictured Zart going crazy and throwing the shovel at the wall of the maze in a moment of madness.

“Right,” Minho chuckled. “And he’s making you fix it?”

Newt shrugged, and started working on the wood with his knife again. “Yeah, he’s got other things to do, so I said I could fix it”.

“How noble”, Minho teased, but his friend ignored him. “I wanted to ask you something, though”, he said when he didn’t get a reply.

“Fire away, Minho”.

“About what I asked you yesterday,” he started, and that made Newt look up from his occupation with the knife and raise an eyebrow. Minho continued. “You gotta tell me, like, exactly what I did wrong, because I don’t think I’m quite following you on this”. He had thought about it a lot after returning from the Maze, and figured that he _really_ wanted Newt to agree on his _suggestion_ ; he just didn’t quite know how to convince him. Shuck, he’d never done this before – at least he had no memory of it.

Newt just looked at him for a few moments before he laughed again. He put the knife and stick back down on the grass.

“Alright,” he said, turning so that they sat facing each other. “Listen. First of all, it wasn’t exactly a bloody charmin’ approach, yeah? The question itself and your fantastic list o’ reasons weren’t either, to put it like that. You gotta be a little more smooth in how ya handle that”. Newt looked at him as if waiting for confirmation that Minho had understood. He nodded, and Newt continued.

“Besides, you should consider tryin’ to make me actually _want_ to sleep with ya. It’s not gonn help if the only reasons are your horniness and the lack o’ girls in this place”.

“I said you were cute, though”, Minho pointed out.

“Yeah, well, now ya got one. Also:” he added. “Seduce me”. Newt shrugged and smiled. “Any charming attention from ya is gonn’ work in your favour, yanno”.

Minho nodded slowly, trying to save this information somewhere in his brain. “Right”.

Newt smirked and leaned forward, putting his hands on Minho’s thighs to support his weight. His grin didn’t falter when he was only inches from Minho’s face.

“And then we’ll have to see what bloody happens”, he breathed, and Minho felt the warm air tingling his skin. An urge to lean down to kiss the boy occurred, but then Newt had already retreated and was getting to his feet. “Just because ya have no buggin’ memory don’t mean ya lack social skills, Minho”. He grabbed his tools, winked at Minho and started walking off. He turned after a few steps, though, and looked at Minho who was still perched on the ground.

“And don’t lie”, he said. “I always know when you’re lyin’, Min, and that’s not gonn’ get ya anythin’ ya want from me”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters are painfully short and i'm sorry


	3. Chapter three

Minho had spent the whole evening yesterday trying to come up with some kind of plan on how to seduce his friend, and had decided to start slow with just being casually charming and nice around him.

He knew Newt, and if Newt said to seduce him if he wanted to fuck him, he also knew that slapping his butt and whispering something dirty in his ear wasn’t going to help a lot (unfortunately). He’d obviously have to do it properly with Newt, so that was what he was going to do.

 

Minho peeked his head inside the kitchen. Frypan was outside somewhere and the room empty, so the coast was clear. He quietly walked inside, as if making the floor creak would be like a burglar-alarm in Frypan’s ears, which it probably was anyway.

Being a Keeper, and thus one of the people in charge of sending requests to the Creators, he knew that they would on a rare occasion send up chocolate with the weekly supplies if the Gladers asked for it. He also happened to know that a pack of said rare chocolate had arrived with the last supply-box, but they hadn’t eaten it yet. And even better, Minho knew where it was.

He opened the top counter to the right, removed the stacks of plates as silently as he could, and dug out the yellow and brown box with sweet milk chocolate enough for the entire Glade. There were always a few pieces left after everyone had gotten their share, and Frypan always put them in the new box when it arrived. Therefore, conveniently enough, it was already opened and Minho could snatch two wrapped up pieces of chocolate unnoticed.

He did so, put the box back where he found it – followed by the stacks of plates – and closed the door to the counter. With a satisfied smile on his face, Minho put the two chocolates in his pocket and walked out of the kitchen towards the Gardens where he knew Newt would be.

 

“That shovel working out okay or did Zart go crazy again?” he asked when he walked up behind his friend, who jumped slightly at his sudden appearance.

“Bloody shuck, Min,” he said when he turned around to see who had snuck up on him. “What’re ya doing?”

“Nothing,” Minho answered with an innocent grin. “You wanna take a break with me or something?”

Newt let out a long breath and leaned on his garden tool, inspecting the work he had done for a few seconds before considering it good enough and nodded.

“Yeah sure. Just gonn’ put this stuff back”. Newt picked up two sacks of some kind of fertilizer or other garden stuff (Minho didn’t know jack about gardening), and went to carry them over to the shed.

“No, wait, I’ll take them!” Minho said, and Newt turned and cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Just… it looks too heavy for you”, Minho offered. “I’m just being helpful”. Newt barked out a laugh.

“Alright. Catch”, he said, and tossed the two sacks to Minho with a lot more ease than he should have, considering how they were much heavier than they looked when Minho caught them and tried not to seem like the weight had caught him by surprise.

Newt smiled fondly at him, picked up his shovel and showed Minho where to put down the sacks.

“Thanks, Min”.

Minho grinned. “No problem. C’mon, let’s take a break”.

They sat down underneath the same tree as yesterday, and after making sure there were no one else around, Minho dug the wrapped up chocolates out of his pocket.

“Here,” he said, and handed one to Newt. The boy’s face lit up when he realized what it was, and accepted the little gift.

“No way!” he exclaimed happily. “That’s so sweet, Min”, he cooed, and flashed him a brilliant, toothy smile that made Minho’s heart do something funny he pointedly chose to ignore. “How’d ya get it?” Newt asked while unwrapping the silvery foil.

“Snatched it from the kitchen when Fry wasn’t there”, Minho said, just a little proud of his own achievements. Newt chuckled and took a bite of the candy. Minho watched him close his eyes and hum in appreciation, but looked away and started unwrapping his own chocolate when Newt opened his eyes again.

“Thanks”.

Minho gave him a fond smile “You’re very welcome”.

They sat under that tree, making small talk and laughing and eating chocolate, until they heard Frypan ring the bell that told them dinner was ready.


	4. Chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyy, two chapters in one day  
> lol it doesn't really matter since they're so short tho omg

Minho kept up his plan of being generally charming around Newt. He brought him little gifts like extra food, helped him carry stuff, touched him just a little more than necessary, and always showered him with attention. Newt seemed to love it.

Therefore, Minho figured he’d start flirting more obviously with the guy. He could hardly believe he had actually made this plan, but what could a shank do when he wanted sex and his best friend was a huge tease who enjoyed playing hard-to-get?

He figured Newt would be the kind of guy who liked flowers. Therefore, of course, he went to find some in the Deadheads when he returned from the Map room and had cleaned up. He’d never really seen any flowers in there, but then again, he’d never really looked either.

There were a lot of leaves, he noticed, walking among the trees and bushes. _Surprise_. There were ferns, grass, ivy. But he didn’t see any flowers until he reached a clearing in the middle of the forest, and there he spotted some: a group of tiny white flowers growing no more than four inches above the ground.

There weren’t many, so Minho carefully picked a few before heading back to the Glade and the boy he was supposedly trying to seduce.

The Gardens were empty except for Newt, who seemed to always be there. Minho hid the little flowers behind his back and walked over to him.

“Brought you something”, he said, and Newt looked at him curiously.

“What?” he asked, and Minho grinned.

“I’ll give it to you if you come sit down with me”. Newt was looking at him suspiciously with a half-smile on his face.

“Now I’m curious”, he said, and followed Minho who sat down with his back to the wall of the garden shed. He held the flowers hidden with one hand and gestured for Newt to sit down between his legs with the other.

His friend shook his head fondly. “You’ve got to be joking”. Nonetheless, he sat down where Minho wanted him and leaned back against his chest. Newt turned his head to look at him.

“So what’d ya bring?”

Minho handed him the bouquet of five tiny, white flowers, and Newt took it. “It’s not like the Deadheads are swarming with flowers, so they were all I could find”, Minho explained, and was genuinely surprised when Newt turned and kissed his cheek.

“They’re so sweet”, he assured him. “Thanks”.

The corners of Minho’s mouth lifted up in a huge grin without him even meaning to, and he wrapped his arms around Newt’s waist.

“So, how am I doing so far?” he asked.

“I think you’re doing great,” Newt answered. “I’d give ya nine outta ten so far”.

“Why not ten?”

Newt turned his head again to look at him and held up the flowers. “I like roses better”.

Minho tried to act offended, but he couldn’t hold back the laughter – and neither could Newt.

“Stupid shank”, he laughed, but Newt didn’t take offense in the insult and leaned back against Minho again, finally able to control his laughter.

“Nah, I’m just kidding”, he said. “I’ll give ya ten for having such a comfy chest”. He made a point of snuggling closer to him, and Minho snorted. This shank was unbelievable.

 

* * *

 

 

“You want some help with that, shank?” Minho asked as he watched Newt curse and struggle with his hair. He only had a leather string to tie it with, and it was obviously some task, as long strands of blond hair kept escaping the ponytail he was attempting to make and fall into his face.

Newt looked at him sideways, then let his hands drop to his sides in surrender with a heavy sigh. He took the leather string out of his hair and handed it to Minho.

“Please”.

“Sit down”, Minho said as he took it and gestured for Newt to sit down on the bench outside the Homestead. Minho himself took a seat on the table behind him. He started brushing his fingers through the long strands of hair, trying to undo the knots.

“And how would the gentleman like his hair today?” he asked in an old-fashioned manner, and Newt snorted.

“Do whatever ya like, just get it out of my face”, he said, and then added, “And don’t cut it, of course”.

“Wouldn’t have crossed my mind”, Minho assured him. “I clearly see why you insist on keeping it this long when it does nothing but annoy you and anyone close enough to hear your vulgar language whenever it’s being difficult”, he said, the sarcasm thick in his words.

“Hey, don’t mock my hair, ya bloody brat”, Newt argued. “I’ll kick your arse down the shaft of the box, yanno”.

Minho chuckled at the empty threat and continued brushing knots out of his friend’s hair. He thought of what he should do with it, and started thinking about how Newt would look with braids. Minho knew how to braid. Maybe he had a little sister once or something before he was send here, and used to braid her hair before she went to school in the morning. He dropped the though before it could make him sad, and separated a small part of Newt’s hair to start with.

“I hope you’re not in a hurry”, he said, and set to work.

About an hour later, Minho was finished, and he asked Newt to turn around so he could look at the result. It was better than he’d expected, in fact: a series of cornrows pulling his blond hair back, coming to a stop just above his shoulders. Minho smiled and ran a finger along one of them, taking the opportunity to lightly caress Newt’s neck before letting his hand fall. He could have sworn he saw the corner of Newt’s mouth twist upwards a little.

“It looks good on you”, he said genuinely. Newt returned the smile and ran a hand along the braids.

“Thanks,” he said. “I didn’t know ya could braid. Especially not like this”.

Minho shrugged. “Doesn’t come to use much”.

“You wouldn’t wanna do this another time as well, would ya?” Newt asked. “Doesn’t have to be cornrows since it takes so bloody long, just any kind o’ braid or whatever”.

“’Course I can”, Minho grinned. He actually liked braiding Newt’s hair, for some stupid reason. The boy looked at him, a small smile on his lips.

“You’re actually really sweet when ya just try, Minho”, he said, petting Minho’s knee as he got up from the bench. “C’mon. Dinner will be ready soon, seeing ya took so bloody long with those braids”, he teased, and Minho followed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are super appreciated!! <3


	5. Chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a fighting scene in this chapter so now you've been warned, although it's nothing particularly nasty

The gathering a few days later was boring, like every gathering was. Gally was arguing with Alby about food-rations or something, and Minho was trying not to roll his eyes so far back in his head they’d get stuck every time Gally spoke. That was when he felt something nudge his foot, and his eyes met Newt’s at the opposite end of the table. There was a playful glint in his eyes, and his foot touched Minho’s ankle again.

Minho managed to hide a smirk and pretended to listen to the argument while returning the gesture, soon having a quiet foot-flirting-battle-ish-thing with Newt under the table, not paying the slightest attention to what anyone might be saying.

“Minho, what do you think?”

Minho stopped his activities at once and quickly turned his head to look at Alby, who had addressed him.

“Uh…” he offered as an intelligent answer wile thinking about a way to save his ass from embarrassment.

“It only makes sense the Runners get the most of the meat-rations”. Luckily, Newt had been paying attention, and came to the rescue. “They do the hardest physical work, so they need the most protein”.

His eyes met Minho’s with a look that told him to pick up the thread now that he knew what the case was about, and, grateful, Minho did.

“I agree with Newt”, he said, looking at Alby. “I mean, we run full speed out there all day, _every day_. You can’t do that without enough food and proteins and all. Besides, Newt’s not even a runner anymore, and even he suggests it”. He looked to Newt, who nodded.

“So the runners are the only ones doing physical work now?” Gally asked, arms crossed and a glare on his face.

“We are the ones doing _the hardest_ physical work, not the _only_ ”, Minho spat back, but Alby cut in before the pair of them could start a fight.

“If you shanks could knock it off, that’d be fine. I agree with Newt and Minho, we need our runners in the best condition they can be if we want to find a way out of this shuck place”. Gally made a face, and Alby glared at him. “It’s _a little_ more, Gally, don’t give me that face”. The leader looked around at the rest of the keepers gathered around the table.

“We vote like usual. Those who agree on giving the biggest part of the meat-rations to the runners, raise your hand”. About two thirds of the Gladers agreed when counting with Newt, Alby and himself, and Minho gave Gally a smug smile, just because he could.

Maybe not the best idea, though.

He had barely made it outside after the gathering, heading for the Map Room to compare the stupid sheets of paper again, before the Keeper of the Builders strode up to him and grabbed the front of his shirt in a tight grip.

“I am _so_ fed up with _you_ and your smug _face_!” Gally snarled at him, and Minho glared back. His relationship with the guy hadn’t exactly been the best the past few weeks, and deep inside, he knew better than to initiate a fight with him. But then again, that wisdom was buried a little _too_ deep inside.

“Yeah?” Minho said in a challenging tone. “At least my face isn’t straight out _ugly_ ”.

That was apparently all it took before Gally had landed a fist in his face, and Minho staggered back with a grunt. He didn’t waste time waiting for the strike to his eye to start hurting, but practically jumped on Gally, trying to tackle him to the ground. The builder caught him, though, but didn’t get a punch in before Minho had hit his ugly nose and heard a satisfying _crack_. Gally was the one who stumbled back this time, but only a small step before they flew at each other again. With the adrenaline rushing through him, Minho vaguely registered that there were people around them, shouting something, but he didn’t care. They separated for a second, and he crashed into Gally with all his weight, successfully tackling him to the ground.

Minho sat on top of him and was just about to hit – adrenalin pumping wildly through his veins – when someone grabbed his hair and yanked him backwards, forcing him to his feet. Before he had even properly regained his balance, a hand slapped him across the face, _hard_.

Newt was standing in front of him, giving him a look that Minho was positive could have killed him. The boy jabbed I finger in his chest.

“Are ya out of yer bloody _mind_?” he shouted in his face, glaring at him so fiercely Minho took a step back. He opened his mouth to say something in his own defense – after all, _Gally_ had started – but Newt cut him off before he could say a word.

“Shut your hole and sit down!” he ordered, pointing to the wooden log a few yards behind him. Minho didn’t dare do anything but oblige, not when Newt was looking at him like that, so he walked over to the log and sat down obediently.

There he stayed, watching Alby and Newt talk, and some other Gladers luckily move Gally out of his sight. After a while, Newt came back. He stopped in front of Minho and crossed him arms, looking down at him.

“Alright, shuckface,” he said. “Ya know the bloody rules: No fighting. Both you and Gally get twenty-four hours in the slammer”.

“But he started, shouldn’t he get-” Minho started to argue, but Newt interrupted him again.

“Well ya made up for that yerself by tryin’ to hit the guy while he was lyin’ down”. He didn’t look very impressed. “Twenty-four hours each”, he repeated. “Starting now”.

Newt gestured for Minho to follow him, and he did. They walked towards the grey stone building that was the Slammer.

“I hope we’re not both going to be in there at once”, Minho said, and Newt shook his head.

“You’ll get to go first”. The boy fished a key out of his pocket, unlocked the metal door, and held it open for Minho to enter the room. He looked at Newt to check if he was really going to heartlessly leave him here for twenty-four hours, and judging by the look in his eyes, he was.

“Who’s going to run for me tomorrow?” Minho asked a little miserably.

“Alby”.

He nodded, and as he doubted he was able to delay it any longer, he stepped into the slammer.

“I’ll bring ya breakfast tomorrow”.

Newt shut the door behind him, and the room was dark except for the dim light coming from between the bars in front of the little window.

* * *

 

 

To Minho’s delight, it didn’t take more than an hour before he heard the characteristic rhythm of Newt’s footsteps approach the Slammer. He stood from the wooden chair and looked out between the bars. He grinned at his friend, who – luckily – didn’t look ready to kill him anymore.

“Miss me already?” he asked, and earned a snort from the blond. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, placing the paraffin-lamp he had brought on the floor.

“Not really,” he said. “I’m just too soft to leave ya without taking care of your face first”.

Minho could only imagine how his face must look (he could _feel_ it as well), but he smiled.

“Sit down”, Newt ordered, but in a much milder voice than earlier. Minho obliged, and watched as Newt prepared a wet towel and crouched down in front of him. He squinted a little in the dim light from the lamp, and after checking for any swollen areas on his jaw, he gently held Minho’s cheek with one hand to steady his face.

When it came to taking care of people, Minho had noticed, Newt was always very gentle. He was a mix of kind, snarky and sarcastic on an every-day basis, ice-cold fury when he was angry, and very, very gentle when he was worried or in the position to take care of someone.

Minho’s left eye had started to swell shut, and he winced a little when Newt’s towel touched it.

“Sorry”, the boy said, voice low to match the silence of the Slammer.

“It’s okay,” Minho assured him. He added a grin. “How do I look?”

“Literally like bloody klunk”, Newt answered.

“What a lovely picture you just painted in my head. Thanks, Newt”.

He made a little laugh while continuing his slow work to clean Minho’s skin. “You’re welcome”.

Minho sat still while his friend worked on his face and, when he was done there, took his right hand to clean the blood from the little cuts on his bruised knuckles. When Minho’s hands were clean as well, Newt put the towel down, looked up at him and studied his face from his crouched position.

“D’ya think anything’s broken?” he asked, and Minho shook his head.

“Nose and jaw is fine? And ribs?”

“Yeah. It’s mainly my eye that hurts”.

“What ‘bout your wrist?”

Minho moved his wrist around and shook his head. He _knew_ how to punch without busting his wrist.

“It’s fine, Newt”, he assured him. “Gally doesn’t even punch hard enough to break anything”, he joked, even though they both knew that wasn’t true. Newt just smiled and shook his head.

“Slinthead”. He got to his feet and picked up the lamp from the floor. “I’ll see ya tomorrow”.

“Yeah”.

“Try to get some sleep, okay?”

Minho looked around the room, which consisted of nothing but stone floor and a wooden chair. “I can always try”, he said, and shrugged.

Newt nodded, and gave him an almost apologetic smile. “G’night, Min”.

“G’night”.

Newt left the Slammer and locked the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mama newt just because


	6. Chapter six

Minho had spent a night in the Slammer before, but he didn’t remember it to be this awful. Getting any sleep was impossible. His body hurt from the fight, and the hard surface he was forced to lie on only made it worse. He’d wake up with even more bruises than he already had.

Therefore, he ended up pacing back and forth for hours, waiting for dawn and for Newt to come back.

Nonetheless, at some point during the night he must have fallen asleep, because he woke to the sound of the door closing. He tried to open his eyes, but discovered that his left was still swollen shut. Minho groaned. He lifted his head from where it had been resting on his arms on top of the chair, and saw who had woken him up. Newt.

“Did I wake ya?” the boy asked quietly, crouching down by the chair. Minho rubbed the sleep out of his right eye and yawned.

“Yeah, but it’s fine”, he said.

Newt was studying his face again with a mildly worried expression. Minho wondered if he looked worse today.

“How ya feelin’?”

Minho got up from the floor and stretched. He felt like utter klunk, to be honest. His face, side and hands hurt, he was shuck tired and his leg had fallen asleep.

“My leg is asleep”, came his excellent answer, and Newt snorted.

“Right. Anything _else_?”

“My face hurts and I’m tired like hell”, Minho said. He joined Newt on the floor again. “Also I don’t think I’ll survive staying in this shuck place the whole day”.

“You’ll just have to suck it up”, Newt said and put a plate with two double sandwiches on the chair, promoting it to a table, and took one of them himself.

“How much did ya sleep?” he asked while Minho helped himself and took a bite of his breakfast. He chewed while thinking and checking the time on his watch.

“When I checked the time last it was four something”, he said. “So a couple of hours maybe”.

Newt nodded quietly. “Ya don’t look like ya had much more, to put it like that”.

“Thanks. I can imagine”.

Newt swallowed a mouthful of his sandwich. “Alby just left for the Maze. I’m in charge o’ this whole shuck place, but I’ll try to come visit ya sometime later”, he said, and Minho nodded. He wished Newt could just sit here with him all day, but of course he couldn’t. He’d just have to hope he could drop by and save him from insanity at some point during the day.

They finished their food, and Newt took the plate and got up from the floor.

“I’ll come by with lunch, at least”.

“Alright. I’ll just stay here and rot by myself”, Minho said with a dramatic sigh, and got to his feet as well. Newt chuckled a little and opened the door.

“You’re such a drama queen”.

“But you love it”.

“Shuckface”.

 

* * *

 

 

By noon, Minho thought he would go insane if he had to stay in the Slammer any longer. There was _nothing_ to occupy his mind with, and just sitting on his butt and think for hours wasn’t really his style. He had spent most of the day pacing around or staring out between the bars at the rest of the Glade. He could see the Gardens, but got tired of watching it when Newt wasn’t there. The guy was busy running back and forth doing the stuff Alby would normally take care of, whatever that was.

Minho let out a long, frustrated sigh, and for the first – and probably last – time ever, he wished he were back in the Maze. There, he could at least use his body for something instead of waste it away in this stupid place.

Well… maybe he couldn’t run, but he could still work out.

 _Why the shuck did I not think of this before?_ Minho thought as he dropped to the floor and immediately started doing push-ups. It was a surprisingly satisfying feeling, the way his blood started pumping through his veins, the way his muscles worked to push his body up off the floor again and again. He stopped at forty, turned around on his back, and continued with sit-ups. After sixty, he turned around again and repeated the set.

He lost count in how many repetitions he did before he became aware that Newt had stepped inside the Slammer, carrying two plates of food. Minho groaned and let himself drop to the floor, feeling the familiar numbness in his sore muscles. He took a few seconds to catch his breath before sitting up.

Newt was grinning at him.

“How’s the body-builder doing?”

“He’s going insane and is so glad you’re finally here”, Minho said, and dramatically bent down to hug his friend’s feet. Newt laughed, sat down on the floor with him and offered Minho a plate, which he gratefully accepted.

“Please tell me you can stay a little while”, Minho pleaded almost desperately.

Newt swallowed the bite he’d taken of the sandwich. “I’ve got about twenty minutes right now, at least”.

“You’re a saint, Newt”, Minho said. He grinned. “A real sexy saint”.

Newt almost spit his food out in laughter, and ended up coughing like mad to keep himself from choking. Minho wasn’t sure if it actually helped, but he hit him a little gently on the back a few times before the boy managed to compose himself.

Newt cleared his throat one last time before speaking. “Sorry. That probably wasn’t very sexy, though”.

“You’re right. You are honestly so disgusting, Newt”, Minho joked, and his friend shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Says the one who smells like utter klunk”.

 

* * *

 

 

After Newt left, Minho entertained himself by making up (some extremely bad) dirty pickup-lines, and trying them out on the second in command whenever he was nearby and Minho could wave him over. He knew Newt would never take any pickup-line from him seriously, so the fact that he found them funny – and on some occasions, Newt informed him – charming, was a huge achievement in Minho’s eyes.

Newt’s reaction to the really bad ones was also entertaining.

 

“You’re like my little toe,” Minho said with a playful smirk when his friend walked over to him. “I’ll bang you on every piece of furniture”. It took a second before Newt realized what he’d just said, but then he barked out a laugh and shook his head.

“Such a shame ya don’t own any then”, he said, and winked at Minho before he left.

 

The rest of his pickup-lines went along the same lines:

“I’m no weatherman, but come to the Deadheads and you can expect more than a few inches tonight”.

“Hey, I lost my pants, can I get in yours?”

“Nice weather for a fuck, isn’t it?”

“Let’s throw a party and invite your pants to come on down”.

“Life’s like a dick. When it gets hard, fuck it”.

“If I’m a pain in your ass we can just add more lube”.

 

You get the picture. To Minho’s delight, Newt played along, and his responses became dirtier the further down on Minho’s list of lines they came.

All in all, Minho hadn’t lost his sanity when Newt finally came to let him out of the Slammer after dinner.

“Freedom”, Minho exclaimed with a sigh when he stepped out of the door and onto the grass of the Glade. “Relative freedom, at least”, he added.

“C’mon shuckface”. Newt tugged at his arm and started walking. “Ya need to sleep if you’re gonn’ run the Maze tomorrow”.

Minho followed him towards the Homestead. “I’d be perfectly happy sleeping in your bed”.

Newt just shook his head with a little smile on his face. “You’re unbelievable”.


	7. Chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last chapter everyone! and also the longest i think, u poor souls who only get my shittingly short chapters lol  
> i rlly hope u like it and that it wasn't so bad, pls tell me what u think down in the comments!!  
> and i just gotta say thank u so much to everyone who's been commenting, it means alot<3  
> also this is the smut chapter (finally) so now you're prepared  
> okay i'll stop talking and let u read haha bye

“Say, Newt,” Minho said as he plopped down next to his friend with a new glass of Gally’s brew in his hand.

“Hm?” Newt looked at him with that kind of dazed but satisfied look he always got when he was drunk. Minho settled close enough to him so that their shoulders touched.

“How about we sneak off into the Deadheads and, um…” His fingers trailed lightly over Newt’s thigh, and Minho leaned in closer with a confident grin so he could lower his voice. “…maybe find a quiet place?”

He didn’t take his hand away from Newt’s thigh, and the boy studied him for a few seconds. There was a hint of amusement in his face.

“I’m actually not gonn’ shag with ya when I’m drunk”, he said, his voice a little hoarse. Minho sighed in defeat and took his hand off Newt’s thigh.

“Damnit”, he said, but he didn’t mean anything by it and smiled at Newt. His friend chuckled a little and took a sip of his drink before he put the glass down and turned to Minho.

“But I guess it couldn’t hurt to make out”, he offered with a little smirk, and Minho grinned.

“No, I guess”.

Newt looked very pleased with the conclusion and tugged a little at the collar of Minho’s shirt to bring him closer. Minho didn’t have any protests at all, and as Newt sat back he leaned in and let their lips meet.

Kissing Newt was better than he had ever imagined. Maybe it would have been _even_ better if his mind wasn’t already dull from the alcohol, but Minho really was more than satisfied with what he had right now. Being this intimately close to Newt made his heart beat faster and sent a delightful and almost giddy feeling through his entire body. The boy’s lips were warm, a little chapped like his own probably were, and when Minho moved his lips, Newt’s followed in the same rhythm.

It felt somewhat familiar, and Minho was pretty sure he’d done this before, even if he couldn’t remember it. When he started to get the hang of it and found a rhythm, he opened his mouth to lick Newt’s lips, and Newt wasn’t at all hard to convince to let him in. The boy’s hands moved from Minho’s shirt to his neck, and then up to his hair to find something to hold on to. Newt pulled him closer, and Minho moved to sit on his knees with one leg on either side of him to find a less awkward position.

Newt tasted like alcohol, but so did Minho, and it didn’t bother him.

Unfortunately, Newt’s hands moved to the front of his face way too soon, and gently pushed him away. Minho realized only now that he was panting, and so was Newt.

“Think that’s enough”, Newt said. Although Minho was very much tempted to continue what they started, he knew the other boy wouldn’t let him, so he climbed off his lap and reclaimed his seat on the ground.

“So, what did you think?” Minho asked while leaning back against the wall of the Homestead.

“I got no complaints”, Newt grinned and took a sip of his drink.

“Good that”.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a week later when Newt finally decided to give in.

 

“Stop doing that”.

Newt looked up at Minho in confusion. “Stop doin’ wha’?”

“That thing with your hair”, Minho explained. The two of them were alone in the Map room, comparing maps from the past month. Newt had promised to help him, and was now standing bend over the table, blowing a loose strand of hair out of his face just a moment ago. Minho had been watching him, and that little puff of air the guy made to get his bangs out of the way was the single most adorable thing Minho could think of right now.

“It’s so adorable it’s almost annoying”.

Newt laughed and unconsciously tried tucking his hair behind his ear, but with no luck.

“I’m sorry to annoy ya with my cuteness”.

“You better be”, Minho said. He abandoned his almost-finished maps, walked over to stand behind his friend and carefully tugged the leather string from the little ponytail Newt had made. Minho took his time to brush some knots out of his hair with his fingers, and the boy made a low hum in appreciation while he did it. He tried the best he could to collect all the little strands and tie it in a bun-ish thing.

“There,” Minho said when he was finished. “Better?”

Newt turned around and brought a hand to his hair to check what Minho had done to it. He smiled.

“Yeah. Thanks, Min”.

“You’re welcome”.

They stood close enough that Minho could feel Newt’s breath on his skin, and his eyes unconsciously flickered to his lips. Neither of them moved away.

Minho cupped his face and kissed him, and Newt responded immediately. He brought his arms up around Minho’s neck and pulled him closer while their lips and tongues moved together. Minho didn’t feel like he’d ever get enough of Newt’s lips, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, at the same time bringing his hands down to the boy’s waist and pressing their hips together.

 _Fuck,_ it was intoxicating.

“You’re not drunk now,” Minho pointed out in between kisses, and Newt just hummed in response. Minho broke the kiss to catch his breath. He looked at Newt. “Continue in the Deadheads?”

“Good that”, Newt answered, panting lightly, and Minho nodded.

“You go ahead, I’ll just get something”.

Newt gave a smile and a quick kiss to Minho’s lips before he left the Map room. The runner wiped his mouth and waited for a few seconds to catch his breath before stepping out as well, but heading for the Homestead first.

 

He found Newt at the place where two of the Maze-walls met in the Deadheads.

“What did ya get?” Newt asked, and Minho showed him the bottle of lube he was holding.

“Asked the Creators and they were actually considerate”.

Newt looked at it. “Wha’ is it?”

“You don’t know?”

The blond shook his head. “I’m guessing it’s got somethin’ to do with sex since ya brought it”.

“Well, yeah”, Minho said, a little surprised that Newt didn’t know this. Maybe it wasn’t so strange though, as they hadn’t been that old when they were dropped in the Maze. Minho figured he must have been the kind of kid who did all the sex-research early.

“It’s to make it easier to do it without it being so painful, you know”, he explained.

“Alright”, Newt said. “So you know what to do then?”

Minho flashed a grin. “All the dirty details”. This drew a grin from Newt as well and he stepped closer, draping his arms around Minho’s neck again.

“We should just continue then, yeah?”

“Yeah”.

Minho didn’t waste another second, but found Newt’s lips again in an already open-mouthed kiss. The feeling of his lips, and the taste of his tongue, and the sounds of their mouths disconnecting only to meet again in a different angle a second later was more than Minho could find in his dizzy mind to describe. The way Newt eagerly tugged at his hair, the little sounds that escaped him and the sinful way he rolled his hips to meet Minho’s, making him groan into the boy’s mouth and only kiss him deeper, were nothing less than overwhelming.

He pushed Newt back until they were up against the wall of the Maze, and eagerly pressed his knee between the boy’s legs. Newt gasped, the action swallowed by Minho’s kiss, and ground his hips forward again. The runner broke away from the kiss and started exploring Newt’s sharp jawline, and then the soft skin on his neck. His hands impatiently tugged the boy’s shirt upwards to reveal his bare chest, and relished the feeling of the soft skin against his palms and fingers.

His lips wandered in sloppy kisses down Newt’s neck, and he could feel the boy’s uneven breath tickle his chin. He smelled like grass and dirt and faintly of sweat, and Minho loved it.

“Lift your arms?”

Newt obliged, and Minho lifted the shirt over his head tossed it at the ground.

“Yours too”, Newt said, finding the hem of the runner’s own shirt and quickly getting rid of it.

They were both shirtless and panting, and Minho could have continued making out forever if he wasn’t so eager to get on with the best part. He pressed a reassuring kiss to Newt’s neck and pulled him a few steps away from the wall so that they could lie down on the grass beneath them.

“There should really be a bed,” Newt said, lying down on the soft ground with Minho on top of him. “Feel like a bloody caveman”.

Minho grinned and leaned down to kiss his collarbone.

“There is, but then any shank could come bursting in, and that would ruin the mood”.

Newt made a sound that originally was probably a snort, but turned out to be more of a whimper as Minho bit down on a sensitive spot.

“ _Shuck_ ”. Minho had trailed his hand down Newt’s body and stopped at his crotch, putting pressure on the bulge and making the blond throw his head back and gasp. Minho grinned and did it again, feeling Newt harden under his touch.

Minho’s own pants were starting to get uncomfortable as well and he quickly unbuckled the other boy’s belt, then tugged off his pants. Newt propped himself up on his elbows and looked at him as he worked on his own belt, eyes big and a few golden bangs sticking lightly to his forehead.

“Yer sure ya know wha’ to do now, yeah?”

Minho managed to pull off his own pants and threw them in the same direction as the other ones. He met Newt’s gaze.

“Don’t know if I’ve done it before, but I know how it works, yeah”. Newt nodded, lying back down on the grass. Minho sat bend over him again, straddling his hips, but he didn’t move.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine” Newt assured him with a small smile. “I’m allowed to be a li’l nervous, aren’t I?”

“It’s gonna be fine, you know”, Minho said, and kissed him gently. “You’re gonna love it, I promise”.

He didn’t break the kiss, just continued it in a slow pace, suddenly feeling like they had all the time in the world. His hands travelled lightly down Newt’s sides until his thumbs hooked in the waistband of his boxers, and he tugged them down. Minho caressed the inside of his thigh before moving his hand up and wrapping it around Newt’s dick.

The sound alone that slipped from the boy’s lips at the action made Minho never want to stop. He gave him a few strokes, watching how Newt arched his back and cursed when he moved his hand. The blond spread his legs further apart, whether it was conscious or not, and Minho decided on taking it as a sign to move on. He grabbed the bottle of lube he had tossed a little to their right, and squeezed some of it over his fingers. He looked at Newt, who was eyeing him.

“It’s gonna hurt at first, but it gets better, okay?”

“Okay”.

Minho gently pushed the boy’s legs a little further apart to have better access, and he slowly pushed a finger inside him. Newt’s face scrunched up in a grimace that showed his uncomfortableness, and Minho went as gently as he could.

“ _Shuck_ ”, Newt said between gritted teeth, and Minho bit his lip.

“Tell me if I should stop, alright?” He wasn’t sure exactly how much this was supposed to hurt, but it didn’t look very comfortable. Newt nodded, but kept his eyes closed.

“Just take it slow”.

Minho did, watching Newt’s face while moving a finger inside him, and after having pushed a second finger in, he started searching for Newt’s prostate. With his other hand, he stroked the boy’s member, trying to ease or at least distract him from some of the pain. Judging by Newt’s face, it seemed to be working at least a bit. He was gripping Minho’s upper arms hard, nails digging into the skin, and his face showed a mix of uncomfortableness and pleasure as he bit his lip and made a small whimper when Minho tried crooking his fingers inside him. After a few more tries, Newt suddenly arched his back and released almost a surprised moan. Nails scratched Minho’s skin, but the runner grinned.

“Wha’…?” Newt started, trying to form the question, but Minho answered before he could.

“That’s what it’s supposed to feel like”, he said, crooking his fingers in the same way, and once again extracting a pleasured sound from Newt’s lips. Minho continued stretching him, adding a third finger as well, and Newt continued making the sexiest noises Minho could have ever imagined. When he was sure he’d done a good enough job, he slowly pulled his fingers out and grabbed the lube again.

Newt watched him squeezing the substance onto his fingers.

“Can I do it?” he asked, and Minho looked at him.

“Do what?”

Newt sat up and took the lube Minho had poured on his fingers into his own hands, coating them like Minho had did before. He locked eyes with the Runner for a second before reaching down to take his member in his own hand. He made sure to slick it properly, slowly stroking up and down Minho’s length, occasionally running his thumb over the head.

Minho closed his eyes and tried not to groan too loudly. He _really_ tried to hold back the small whimper that escaped him when Newt put more pressure to his movements, but failed.

“Keep doing that and I’ll come before we even get started”.

Newt reluctantly stopped his movements and offered a small, half-embarrassed grin. “Right, sorry”.

“S’okay”. Minho gave a smile and leaned in to kiss Newt’s lips again, at the same time pushing him back down on the ground. He broke apart to lift the boy’s good leg onto his shoulder, and lined himself up, stopping to catch his eyes again.

“You ready?”

“Yeah”.

Miho nodded and pushed in as slowly as he could. Newt immediately grabbed a hold of his biceps again, his face scrunching up in pain. Minho watched the emotions on his face and found he had a completely different experience of the situation, because _fuck,_ Newt was tight, and hot, and Minho’s mind almost went blank. He still had the wits to notice how Newt grunted in pain, though, and stopped pushing.

“No, just keep goin’”, he demanded, so Minho continued until he was all the way in. Then he stopped, waiting for both of them to catch their breath and for Newt to give a sign to continue. The boy swallowed.

“Try to move”.

Minho did as he was told, and failed to suppress a moan at the fucking _tightness_ , and the _heat_ , and the _friction_ , and _fuck_ he would never last long doing this. He moved slowly, and as steadily as he could manage, both trying to find Newt’s prostate again and to keep his mind from going haywire while he moved. He knew he’d hit it when the boy underneath him let out a breathy moan and threw his head back. He aimed for the spot again.

“Ahh, _shit_ Minho”, Newt panted, gripping his arms so tight Minho was certain he’d start bleeding, but he couldn’t care less. He sped up his thrusts a little, watching Newt arch his back when he hit the right spot and whimper his name over and over.

“Minho… _ah_ , Min, _shit_ **…”**

It was like fucking music. Minho knew he wouldn’t last much longer, though. He was panting hard, releasing moans and noises he wasn’t even aware of and all the while repeating Newt’s name among every single curse his mind could produce. His heart was thumping, his head spinning violently with nothing but pleasure and bliss, and when he couldn’t hold back anymore, he came with a low and strangled groan. He rode out his orgasm, and waited a few seconds to clear his mind before pulling out slowly. Newt made a sound of discomfort, and Minho climbed on top of him and took his still hard member in his hand, pumping it steadily. He leaned down to capture the sounds escaping the boy with his lips, licking inside his mouth, drawing out his tongue, pulling at his lip. Newt pulled away briefly and tried putting a sentence together but he couldn’t, so Minho continued kissing and stroking him until the blond came in his hand.

After he came down from his high, they both remained on the ground, trying to catch their breaths and gather their scattered minds. Newt was the first one to speak.

“Bloody hell”, was what he said, and Minho didn’t know where he found the energy but laughed.

“Yeah”. They lay side by side on the grass, and Newt turned his head to look at him. He held Minho’s gaze for something that felt like an eternity before he spoke again.

“It’s not like it says a lot, but judging by my one year of memory, this is definitely the best thing I’ve ever done”.

“You’re right, that doesn’t really say a lot”, Minho agreed jokingly. They both started – very maturely so – giggling.

“We should probably go shower and get dressed”, he suggested, as he realized they were both naked and covered in sweat and dirt and cum.

“Ah shuck, right”.

They got up and gathered their clothes. Newt pulled his boxers and pants on, and winced a little as he stretched.

“Bloody glad I’m not the one runnin’ the buggin’ maze tomorrow”, he said, and pulled the shirt over his head.

“Good that”. Minho ran a hand through his hair and hoped it didn’t immediately reveal what he and Newt had been doing. Not that it really mattered a lot, most of the Gladers probably knew something was up anyway.

He was quiet while he dressed himself. When he was done, Minho looked up at Newt who was waiting for him.

“So you wanna do this again some other time then?” he asked, and Newt’s lips curled in an amused smile as the corners of his eyes crinkled.

“You’re one stupid shank if ya think I wouldn’t”. He grabbed Minho’s hand and tugged him along back to the Glade, and if Newt were holding his hand like that, Minho would have followed him anywhere.


End file.
